Everything For My Little Princess
by PajeczarkaSpidery
Summary: He woke up in a white room, covered with a white duvet, lying on a white bed, surrounded by white equipment typical for a hospital. No windows, some neon lamps, two doors, an IV attached to his right hand. From behind the wall he heard a child's voice, humming a happy melody.
1. The White Room

Narration, English  
**Japanese  
**'Thoughts, names'  
_Dreams, flashbacks, memories_

* * *

He woke up in a white room. An unpleasant light irritated his bloodshot eyes, forcing them to close for a moment. Slowly getting used to the shine they began to look around his whereabouts. He was covered with a white duvet, lying on a white bed, surrounded by white equipment typical for a hospital. Confused, he glanced across the white walls. No windows, some long-shaped neon lamps occupying almost the entire ceiling, two doors, one in front of him, the other on his right, an IV attached to his right hand. He stared at the needle for a few seconds, trying to figure out where he was and what had happened. His gaze flicked along the tube running from the needle to the drip bag which was hanging above the bed. He sighed silently in questioning manner and inhaled, feeling something strange. There were two tubes in his nostrils that supplied oxygen. He could feel them running down his cheeks. Not wanting to move his right hand he touched the tube with his left one, what was a big challenge to him. It seemed to him that his body was too heavy to move anything.

Behind the door on his right must have been a long corridor because he heard somebody's footsteps. They were pretty quiet and uneven, just like someone was jumping instead of walking normally. In his imagination that someone looked like a small child who was going home from school with a knapsack on their back. But the footsteps weren't the only thing. A child's voice came from behind the walls and it was humming a happy melody. "**Moshi moshi kame yo kame-san yo. Sekai no uchi de omae hodo...**" it sang to the rhythm of jumping.

He tilted his head slightly, looking at the door. With a great effort he rested on his elbows when the footsteps stopped and the voice stopped singing. His hearing was impeccable, the child stopped in front of the door. The sudden silence rang in his ears, he felt weak and exhausted, the room began to whirl. That short trance was interrupted by the other voice belonged to an adult man who stopped at the mysterious door as well. "**Kyo-chan! What did daddy say about approaching this door?**"

"**Do not come in,**" muttered the disappointed voice.

"**Indeed. Now go to the kitchen, mommy prepared your favorite dangos.**"

"**Hurray!**" shouted the high-pitched voice, the patter of small feet raced probably to the mentioned kitchen.

The whole dialogue had been in Japanese but fortunately he knew a little of that language thanks to his father. Unfortunately, he still had no idea where he was and what had happened. One thing he knew for sure, he had to get out of there.

Focusing all his strength he jumped up from the bed, regretting that decision immediately. The dizziness became stronger and keeping the balance wasn't as easy as usual. And the horrifying sound similar to an alarm was tearing apart his swollen auditory canals. A strange knob protruding from the wall above the door started to flash red, coloring the whole room. In all the confusion he almost didn't notice that his body was covered with a long white hospital shirt. By the way it was a wonder how could anybody find such a big shirt? Both he and his brothers were giants. He himself was three meters tall and was the tallest, yet the lightest and the slimmest of them.

A group of men in white coats ran into the room, the noise became unbearable. Something wet and warm ran down his right hand. The men were shouting, their voices mixing with the alarm. He was quickly surrounded. Instinctively he tried to defend himself by waving his long arms. Despite the lack of strength his hits still made an impression on the men barely reaching his waist. There were too many of them, some rushed to his legs, trying to hold him to the floor. Too busy with the crowd of screaming physicians surrounding him, he didn't notice one man standing on the bed, a syringe in his hand. Ready to attack the doctor threw himself on his neck, resuming the struggle. He tried to throw the man off his carapace when suddenly he felt a prick in his neck.

Before he fell under the weight of the men, dazed by the injected substance, he spotted a little girl dressed in white shirt and pink dress with braces, standing in the door ajar.

* * *

When he opened his eyes once again to see exactly the same place, he wasn't alone. He didn't even know that it was possible to feel worse than the first time he had woken up in that white room. The pain, not too great, but strong enough to remember, was spreading all over his beak, forcing him to make a silent moan.

One of the physicians stood at his bed, he was wearing glasses, a thick notebook laid in his hand. The man was writing down data from one of the monitors without paying any particular attention to him. He used that fact to look around again because it was the only thing he had strength for. His right hand was bandaged in the place the needle had been and the IV was attached higher on his arm, the needle secured more solidly.

He wasn't sure how much those strange physicians knew about him, they probably had no idea he could speak. The tiredness was driving him crazy and he didn't know the reason for the feeling of such a heaviness. However, he couldn't allow himself any sleep, he had to find out why he was there, how he had found himself there and the most importantly, what those doctors were planning to do with him. He cleared his throat with difficulty, trying to get the attention of the man. The physician looked at him with bored eyes. He saw bloodshot eyes, swollen from the fatigue, long green mouth, but above it all was the uncertainty with hint of fear. The man wrote something down while murmuring a few sentences under his breath. The captured managed to understand a few key phrases which didn't say much. He had been described as an object of research, the physician had briefly described his condition as stable, he had also mentioned the names of several substances.

After taking a few deep breaths and swallowing loudly he finally dared to speak in English, hoping that the man would understand. "What are you going to do with me?"

That caught the doctor's attention. Without looking away the man wrote something quickly, closed the notebook and put it on the monitor. "This can talk?" he asked more himself, taking off his glasses and brought his face closer to the one lying in bed.

"Only few Japanese speak English fluently," he replied, unable to stop himself.

"How can you talk?"

"What is this place? How did I find myself here? What do you want to do with me?"

The physician chuckled quietly, not answering any of the questions he had been asked and he patted the captured's face. The man took his notebook and left the room, leaving him all alone. "What did they give me?" he mumbled during his unsuccessful attempts to move something other than his head and neck. He could still feel all his body, so what was happening to him?

He didn't have time to think about his situation because the door on his right opened again. A small girl, the same he had seen before losing his consciousness, looked through the small crack into the white room. Back then he had thought he had seen an angel, a guardian watching over him in that difficult time. Now he could look at her more closely. The girl slipped inside and closed the door quietly behind her. She was wearing the same white shirt and pink dress with braces. Her plump legs were covered with white tights and she had wooden flip-flops on her feet. Her black hair was cut perfectly straight and it reached her shoulders, her forehead was covered by bangs. Like every child about three years old she had chubby face and hands.

The girl approached the bed without a trace of fear, only a childish curiosity in her amber eyes. They stared into each other's eyes for a moment, her two ambers versus his red whites, the scarlet mixing with brown irises. The girl's small hand touched his bandaged one in a silent gesture. It looked as if she wanted to heal the wound with a simple touch.

Guessing the child's age he thought that they both knew Japanese on a similar level. Only that thought prompted him to ask the question. "**Hello, little one. Will you tell me you name?**" His face arched, trying to smile.

The girl lowered her gaze slightly, smiling shyly. He expected that reaction, all children could be afraid to talk to strangers. But he drew more attention to the fact that the little one wasn't afraid of him, she was rather excited about his presence. She clenched her plump fingers around one of his thick ones, trying to touch his face with her other hand. Eventually she reached his collarbone and began to stroke him like a domesticated pet. Her palms were sticky and warm, he could feel the smell of bubble gum, probably the soap. Looking at the girl who was being busy by 'petting', the questions were still rolling in his head. "**Is this place your home?**" he asked. Kyo-chan nodded her head while touching his arm and clenching her hands on his bicep. It was a strange place for a home for such a child. He expected himself to be locked in some lab or something like that. "**Where is your home? In what town? Do you know?**" He spoke silently and slowly for her to understand him and not to get scared of so many questions. He managed to move his left arm above his body and catch the small hand, holding it gently so as not to hurt her. Her hand was drowning in his three-fingered large one.

The little girl looked at him with a small smile from ear to ear. One thing was for sure, wherever he was and whatever is awaiting for him, she had nothing to do with that. She was just an innocent toddler.

In that moment the very same man in glasses he had tried to make a conversation with a few minutes earlier walked into the room. Seeing the small girl by the bed, the physician ran to them and picked her up from the floor, then moved quickly away with her in his arms. He must have been her father. She didn't mind the sudden change of position, smiling at her dad. "**Daddy asked you not to come in here, princess,**" he said with a paternal smile, bringing their foreheads together.

"**Ryū!**" the little one screamed, pointing her finger at the lying one.

He frowned, understanding the meaning of that word. She was so delighted by her discovery that he had no heart to lead her out of her mistake. So he said in English to her father. "I'm not a dragon."

The man gave him a quick look, then put his daughter on the ground and pushed her lightly towards the door. "**Mommy called you, princess.**" Excited by the news, the girl ran out with a squeak, leaving her parent alone with the prisoner on the bed. The doctor closed the door behind her, then returned quickly to him, giving him a vicious look. "Listen, mutant. I don't know where you came from or why you can speak but I won't give up such a chance when it dropped down straight from the sky."

Straight from the sky? Something shone in his head, yes, a plane! His brothers and father on the plane to Japan. An accident in the luggage compartment. "You caught me and immobilized me. I think you owe me an answer to at least one question" he replied calmly, fearing that something terrible might await him him for raising his voice.

"So be it, one question and only one, reptile."

"What is this place? A hospital, a lab, a single-family house?" He didn't hide the slight frustration due to his position.

"Yes, indeed and correctly. Now that I've answered your question I can examine you and officially start working on the 'Childish Dream' project."


	2. The 'Childish Dream' Project

Narration, English  
**Other languages**  
'Thoughts and names'  
_Dreams, flashbacks, memories_

* * *

A huge digital clock hung above the door leading to the mysterious place in front of him. At first glance it was nothing unusual, the rectangular convex device with black screen and red lines arranged in digits. It showed not only an hour but also the date and temperature in the room. The clock was the only data he had received. The flashing digits told him how long he had been in that place or, if he hadn't got there right after the accident, how much time had passed since his separation from his family. The most frightening was the date, the clock showed that it was October 13, and as far as he could remember, their journey to Japan had been planed for the beginning of September. But what for? That made new questions in his mind, pushing through the previous ones which he still had no answers to. For how long had he been lying unconscious? Maybe they had given him some drugs or other intoxicants? Why nobody wanted to tell him what was going on?

The room maintained the constant temperature of 77 degrees, the clock showed it was 9.37 a.m. Ever since the doctor who seemed to be the main commander of the mysterious 'Childish Dream' project had checked his temperature, measured his blood pressure, examined his eyes and mouth, everything had started to remind him of some kind of form of annoying routine and artificiality. Every hour an individual in white coat entered the room and wrote down data from the monitor, the drip bad was being checked and changed if necessary. During one of those visits he had realised why he didn't have to go to the toilet. Two tubes, one thin and one slightly thicker, were discharging substances leaving his body. Before this conclusion he had thought that he simply had been making himself dirty and stinky. But now just thinking about those people having had their hands in his cloaca made him feel like vomiting.

Two men in white coats entered the room with folders in their hands. The shorter one looked like a typical Asian, more like a student than a fully educated physician. He didn't wear glasses and his face showed no emotion. A middle-aged man walked beside him but his origin wasn't such a trifle to guess. Both men walked to the bed, then the young Asian focused on the monitor while the older doctor pulled a small stool to the bed and sat down, muttering something under his breath. "Doctor Morisaki found out that you know English fluently and you can communicate with a three-year-old in Japanese." The man stroked his beard, not caring about his strong characteristic accent.

"Are you French?" he asked casually.

"Almost," the man snorted. "I come from Canada. More than thirty scientists, mainly doctors physicians, from various countries take part in this project. Our teammates are mostly Japanese, there we have a few Americans. Apart from them, the rest are individual people, there's no person from France."

He had asked one simple short question, and the guy began to rattle like an old lady in the church. The uncomfortable feeling and pain in his temples intensified thanks to the Canadian. That man seemed to be a nice guy, perfect for a conversation over coffee but there was some kind of a mockery in his voice as if he had known that his talk would have annoy the mutant. He couldn't let them provoke him, he would have showed his weakness. Knowing that he would regret that sooner or later, he tried to defend himself with the same tactics. "Do all Canadians answer the questions as if they told themselves a few more?" he asked with much irony in his voice.

"I see you're wordy. That's good because I'm the same and that's how our relationship will look." The physician laughed, and his laugh didn't make the lying reptile feel better. "I'm here to ask you some questions but don't worry, they'll be easy and we won't require you to reveal all secrets of your existence to us, at least not now," he added quietly, then turned to the young Asian. "**Change his drip bag and give him something to calm down,**" he ordered in French.

The young Asian must have known French, and the Canadian clearly wanted the mutant to not understand him. He could dream on. "Actually I know a bit of French," he said, not taking his eyes off the younger man.

"Interesting."

"Why do you want to hide a simple sedation from me?"

"Well, we don't know you, we have no idea how you can react to such information."

"You're right. Don't worry, your drugs have so far put me through it. I'm careful and I always try to maintain peace in difficult situations. Believe me or not but I'm a scientist too."

The man laughed hard, it was obvious he wasn't going to buy that story. Meanwhile the Asian had followed the Canadian's orders and now was sitting on the other side of the bed. The old doctor rubbed his eyes, the tears of laughter ran down his cheeks. "I'm not sure if you noticed but you're a mutant, a reptile, and just a turtle!"

"How do you know I'm a mutant?"

"We are not allowed to answer this kind of questions," the silent Asian said.

The whole thing was very suspicious. He didn't have to be a mutant after all, right? They could have thought that he's an alien or an unknown species. They didn't want to answer his questions so how could he find out, what was going on there?

"We can tell you our names and answer the questions about casual things, such as 'What's for dinner?' or 'What's the weather like today?'."

"But first, you will answer our questions and I advise you to cooperate." The Canadian pulled out a notebook and a pen. "Do you have a name?"

"Yes," he hissed, having enough of that circus. So he decided to act like an offended toddler.

"Tell us."

"It's none of your business. I do not wish you two to call me by my name."

Both men only murmured, exchanging glances. The Canadian wrote down a few brief remarks in the notebook, then looked back at his interlocutor. "I our files you are registered as an object of research of the 'Childish Dream' project. I assume you do not wish us to call you that. Of course we can give you a new name but I'm warning you, it won't be a pleasant one."

"Is the knowledge of my name that important?" he snorted, trying to relax.

"Only if you want us to call you... worthily. Besides, we have some of your belongings which we found in one piece when we found you and believe me when I say we are quite good at blackmailing."

He sighed heavily, rolling his eyes. The guy was annoying, his stupid talk reminded him of Stockman. Actually, there was nothing wrong in telling these men his name. The problem was, he saw it only as a small step toward deeper relation, and he wanted to avoid that. The less they knew about him, the better. The older man wouldn't give up so easily and he was already a loser at that game. "Donatello," he murmured, licking his lips. His eyes slowly made their way from one to another man while he focused on a plan. 'If I make them talk, maybe I will be able to distract them from the rest of my body,' he thought. "My name is Donatello."

The Canadian chuckled and adjusted his glasses. "Donatello, huh? Now I wonder where this idea came from, huh? How the mutant could have had such a sophisticated name from the Renaissance?"

"I just have that name and it's none of your business," Donatello growled, feeling a tingle in his fingertips. Finally he managed to move them a little as well as with his toes. "Now that you know my name, you probably owe me introducing yourselves."

"You are funny, I like you. William Russell, a Canadian psychiatrist. And this is my main partner in this project, a fresh psychologist, Kuroba Akira, a Japanese."

"Yes, his surname is enough for me to get it." Donatello's eyes widened when he said the word 'enough'. Inside he was happy about getting more and more control over his own body. But the men weren't aware of that.

"**It'll be a great pleasure to work with him, don't you think, Akira?**" William laughed, ignoring another eye rollover from Donatello. "Very well, now that we know each other, it's time for another question. You have an American accent so you must come from the USA. How did you get to Japan?"

"I don't remember," he answered quickly, feeling strangely better than a couple of minutes before. He regained control over his body and could escape at any moment, however his curiosity told him to play with these guys a little more. "I must have hit my head."

"Yes, we had to examine your head when you were delivered here. You had a funny bump on your occiput. Let's say we believe you for now. Time for more important for us questions, but first the short information for you. Akira?"

The Japanese who had been quiet and had only nodded murmured in his language. "**Hai, sir,**" he said and changed the languages. "We've examined your blood and stated that it is a mix of blood of a normal turtle, a red-eared slicer to be exact, and a strange substance which became the cause of your mutation. You also have some fragments of human DNA. From a large sample of your blood we've extracted this ooze." Akira raised his hand where he held a glass capsule full of green liquid.

"The mutagen!" Donatello's eyes widened.

"Oh, so you know something more about your being," the Canadian laughed low, glad of the sudden blankness on the mutant's face. "We would like to know more about your mutation and this, how did you call it? Ah, mutagen."

"It is a dangerous substance that breaks the law of nature. I will not say anything more!" Donatello turned his face away from the older man and closed his eyes so as not to have to look at the other.

"Well, we are specialists and sooner or later we'll discover how that your mutagen works. However, your cooperation would be welcomed, my friend."

"We're not friends, Mr. Russell," the turtle said, spitting out the man's name.

"I think we are, Donatello. You will change your opinion about us, you'll see."

Oh no, he won't see.

The silence filled the room. Donatello had no intentions to open his eyes and he stopped moving. He strained his ears so as not to lose awareness of what was going on in the room. The only audible sounds were the scratching the notebook's paper with pens and breathing. The mutant was grateful that the men stopped talking, now he could seriously consider the whole situation. He was able to escape, but his curiosity still ordered him to ponder. Maybe they want to extract more mutagen from him and experiment with mutations or they want to use it for treatment? Perhaps they've found something what can help cure cancer or improve living conditions on Earth?

The train of his thoughts was stopped by a squeal of chairs moving away from the bed. Donatello stayed in the same pose ha had been lying in for a couple of minutes, listening. Two pairs of feet moved away from the bed, going to the right, the door creaked. An interesting smell burst in the room, food. The door closed, the silence became more silent, Donatello was left alone. Slowly he turned his head and opened his eyes slightly to check if he really was alone. He didn't sense anyone's presence, it was time to develop a plan, and quickly. The last time he had tried to escape the alarm had gone off as soon as he had left the bed. There must have been some motion or heaviness sensors under the bedding, which were connected with the red knob. The distance from bed to door should have to take him no more than one second but with his height and long legs it wasn't a problem. The problem was that he didn't know what he would find behind that door, what the architecture of the building would be, if he was being observed and how many people he would encounter on his way to freedom.

It was serious.

"Okay, I must hurry," he said to himself, falling into his natural trance. "One jump toward the door, there's a corridor behind the door, it is quite long. If I turn left, I'll most likely find myself in the part where doctor Morisaki's family lives, this little girl and her mother probably too. If there's a residential part, there's also door leading outside the building. If I turn right, there the corridor is shorter which can be heard with the help of footsteps. It probably doesn't lead to any way out."

He had only one chance. If his escape ended in fiasco, all those physicians would ensure that this situation would never happen again. It was the only chance, especially because the drugs those people had given him had caused him to be inert everywhere, and now he felt full strength.

Very slowly he lifted the upper part of his body and sat on the bed, sliding the duvet off his legs. He noticed that he was wearing the same white hospital shirt and the color of his skin had became sickly gray-green. He quickly realized that escaping the room wouldn't be so easy. His right hand was still bandaged and the needle from the IV was still attached above his wrist. The skin under the bandages was slightly torn, no thanks to himself. That needle was secured solidly so he would have to bring the drip bag with him in order not to hurt himself more. But it wasn't the only obstacle, there still were these two tubes in his nostrils, their ends attached to a heavy device filled with oxygen, and two other tubes in his cloaca that were discharging substances leaving his body. He had no idea how to get these two out without damaging any internal organs.

"Uff, okay, focus, you should be able to pull them out," he murmured, clenching his thick fingers on the tubes tickling his face. "Carefully, slowly..."

With a gentle movement he slid both tubes out of his nostrils and moved them over his head. A strange feeling was blowing in his nose, such a weird emptiness which forced him to sneeze. After getting rid of the oxygen it was time to move and find the containers with his urine and feces. The whole thing was embarrassing, those people had stuffed their hands in his cloaca! Two plastic boxes were lying under the hospital bed, they weren't big or heavy, probably had been changed recently. Donatello took both both boxes on the bed and removed the IV bag, then pulled out the tubes with oxygen from the device to tie the containers he couldn't leave here with them. He brought all three bags to his plastron and and tied the tubes around his middle tight enough so the containers wouldn't fall but they also wouldn't break.

"You have only one jump, don't waste it," he growled at himself, looking at the door like a wildcat would have looked at its victim.

Crouched on the bed, he turned toward the door, never taking his eyes off it, he didn't even blink. He rested his palms in front of him, between his knees, ready to attack. 'One jump is all it takes,' he reminded himself, then proceeded to the plan.

As he had predicted, the red alarm went off when his body broke away from the bed, and the unpleasant sound echoed throughout the building. Stunned by the noise, he ran into the corridor and turned left, pushing back the first people in coats he spotted. The screams filled the house, the alarm increased and that was when Donatello realized that he wasn't ready for this. Too much noise, too many voices, too many people and the sudden lack of energy didn't cope with his plans. His vision became blurry and it was spinning. The three-meter tall reptile found himself in a place which he could call a kitchen connected with the living room, there he found a young woman. She wasn't wearing white coat and at the sight of the mutant her mouth opened and the plate which she had wiped fell down from her hands. The sound of broken porcelain hurt his swollen eardrums.

Then he noticed the door, less than five meters apart. His instinct took over his mind and the turtle staggered toward the exit. Someone behind him shouted but he didn't understand them because everything merged into one big noise. Something metal stuck in his shoulders and calves and one second later a huge pain pierced his entire body. The electricity. They treated him with tasers from behind. Devices of great power quickly brought him to his knees and it was only a matter of time before he stopped feeling anything.

* * *

"Wake up, wake up." Someone's cold hand patted his cheek. "We wouldn't like to feed you through the tube again because it's unhealthy."

"Mmm..." Donatello opened his eyes reluctantly, immediately noticing white, and the bright light was unbearable. He quickly closed his eyes but it didn't help. It was only when he tried to raise his left arm to cover his face did he came to disturbing conclusions.

"After your desperate, though ill-conceived attempts to escape we decided that we can't let you fool us by your tricks, mutant," the voice murmured, the very same voice that had introduced him to the name of the project he was supposed to be part of.

Donatello began to struggle slightly to test the strength of the metal latches on his wrists, ankles and around his waist. Without any effects, he was strapped to the bed for good. It was to be expected, he knew very well that failure meant tougher security measures that he wouldn't be able to break.

"But I have to admit that you've surprised me," doctor Morisaki went on. "It was a good test. We gave you drugs to make you feel weak, but with the delayed action. Your escape plan was... not that bad. After watching the recording I can't wait to learn more about you. Your personality, if I can call it that, is getting more and more interesting."

"You did that on purpose to test me."

"That's correct. Your results are satisfactory so as a reward you will get to eat normally for the first time and then I'll maybe answer your one question and only one."

On his left a young woman sat. She was an Asian but not the same one he had seen in the kitchen before. She was at similar age, her face covered with a hospital mask. She held a plate and chopsticks in her hands. Donatello quickly realized that the girl was going to feed him, but the vision of the fish being brought to fis face didn't sound appealing, neither did it smell nice. "I don't like sushi or other raw fish or fish in general." He wrinkled his beak, relieved that he could still move his head.

"**Hmm, he doesn't like fish and he won't eat it, that's rich,**" doctor Morisaki laughed, explaining the situation to young assistance in Japanese. "Eika doesn't know English, mutant."

"**I don't like fish!**" Donatello repeated for the woman to understand.

A piece of sushi disappeared from his face for a moment and the angry face of the physician replaced it. "We don't care about what you like and what you don't like to eat. You will eat what we give you and drink what you get from us. Unless you prefer to starve to death?"

"You think me stupid, don't you?' the turtle snapped, wriggling a little. "If I weren't needed alive for you, you would have killed me when I tried to escape the first time."

Mr. Morisaki withdrew his face and sat back on the stool, raising his eyebrows. The captured reptile was wiser than he had thought which made him even more interesting specimen. Donatello saw the confusion in the man's eyes. "William Russell promised me a fairly fair game, but now I see that you have more points in this game than me."

"Huh?" Torn from his trance, Morisaki looked again int o the mutant's eyes.

"You know more about me than I know about this project. Don't you think that I deserve some explanation?"

"**Eika, leave the sushi in the kitchen and bring the ramen,**" the doctor muttered, sending the woman back with his look. "So you've already met Russell and Kuroba, how wonderful. You're right of course, we need you alive and we have a few plans for you. You're also not mistaken when you say that we play unfair to you but we can't explain the secrets of the 'Childish Dream' project to you."

"But that's what I want to hear more about, doctor," Donatello said, the word 'doctor' spitted out in a mocking way.

Morisaki adjusted his glasses, counting to ten in his mind so as not to explode. The turtle was intelligent and insolent, he mocked him and apparently he had no idea who he played with. If that's how he wanted things to go, so be it. The man thought about some changes in the schedule, mainly about adding William Russell's name in a few places. With a devilish grin he rubbed his forehead and came back to the conversation with the mutant. "Doctor Russell gave me some information about you, that's true. Your name is Donatello and you're from North America, or at least your accent explains so much. You know Japanese at the level where you can catch the general sense of sentences, and French at the medium level. You fell from a great height and hit your head. We've extracted the substance you call mutagen from your blood, a very interesting and useful thing. In addition, William claims that you introduce yourself as a scientist which is a brilliant joke."

"I see nothing funny about that," Donatello growled.

"Coming back to mutagen," the doctor continued as if he didn't hear the reptile. "I'll tell you a secret. It's not a substance unknown to us, we happened to get it even before we met you and our project is based on various types of serum based on that ooze so valuable for you."

A sudden anxiety crossed Donatello's face and it didn't miss the doctor's attention. The man smiled wider, seeing the blankness and fear in turtle's eyes, when something else caught his attention. Without warning he slammed his hands on the mutant's temples and squinted his eyes to see better. "Yeah, you got a nasty infection in your eyes. Do you feel pain, burning, itching?"

"No," Donatello answered quickly. He hadn't lied. If Morisaki hadn't told him about the infection, he probably would never know that something was wrong. He had thought that his eyes were puffy because of exhaustion or that it was the side effect of drugs given him by those 'scientists'. "Are you sure it's an infection?" he asked.

"It looks like it is. Well, we'll have a look at this in a moment. Now we're going to the first phase of my plan. **Eika!**"

The woman appeared by the bed from nowhere, a huge syringe in her hand. A few other physicians entered the room, all of them in hospital masks on their faces and medical gloves. That stopped being fun and Donatello once again began to struggle. The needle pricked his neck, the substance burned his veins, getting into his bloodstream.

"Count from ten to zero, Donatello," the voice ordered.

The mutant started counting obediently. "Ten, nine, eeeight, seee...v...


	3. The First Change

Narration, English  
**Other languages**  
'Thoughts and names'  
_Dreams, flashbacks, memories_

* * *

When a person wakes up after a decent sleep they expect a feeling of strength and willingness to act, a joy of life in general. A beautiful dream certainly adds more vigor and a peaceful night means a day free of stress. However, not everyone can agree with this statement.

The voices above his head were exchanging information in so many languages that he couldn't get anything from them. His body wasn't moving, his eyes were closed. He decided to take a deep breath but a burning pain in his chest and abdomen stopped him and instead of good breath he began to choke, which only aggravated the unpleasant feeling. He opened his eyes wet with tears, unable to calm down. His face was covered by a plastic oxygen mask, his limbs were still cuffed to bed but the latch around his waist had disappeared. Given the enormous pain in that area Donatello was grateful that nothing clutched his middle.

The woman in white coat, what was her name? Ah, yes, Eika, she gave him an injection in his left arm because his right one was useless at the moment. He only hoped quietly that it was morphine, the pain was giving him the impression that he was slowly dying.

He greedily inhaled once again, intensifying the burning sensation in his chest and a sound he made caught the attention of those around him. "**Morisaki-san, morphine is already in his system,**" Eika murmured, pushing the cotton swab to the place where she'd given him the injection. The woman moved away from the bed and several more came out with her, leaving doctor Morisaki with another woman and two men with their patient.

"Morphine should ease the pain," doctor Morisaki murmured. "If you hadn't whined earlier, you would have get food but oh well," the Japanese sighed and picked a bowl of ramen and chopsticks up from the table. "Here's your ramen. **Aigo, feed him,**" he ordered the girl.

"**Hai, sensei.**" The woman took the bowl and chopsticks from the doctor's hands and leaned over the mutant.

Donatello stated that he still had no strength to talk nor argue so he accepted the cold meal without any resistance. Aigo looked young, she certainly wasn't an adult and her long hair was half dyed brown. She didn't cover her face and her cold look indicated that the doctor had already destroyed that young creature. She calmly served him pasta with an emotionless face. "Yes, that should be enough for now, you've just woken up after all," Morisaki said after a few minutes. "**Aigo, keep your aunt some company in the kitchen.**"

The girl nodded slowly, then disappeared as Eika had done before. Donatello couldn't help but smile, even though he felt sorry for the girl who had become a soulless scientist so early. "So Aigo is a member of your family, isn't she?" he asked, looking at the doctor.

"And how do you know that?"

"I certainly understood two words: an aunt and a kitchen."

"Very well, let's include it as a bonus information." The man adjusted his tie and cleared his throat. "Aigo is my niece, my brother's daughter, and I'm her private teacher. She's my top pupil, she's almost seventeen and she seems to become a great researcher."

"Yeah, I could see that." Donatello rolled his eyes.

"Ah, I would have forgotten. How are your eyes? Do you feel pain, burning, itching?"

The mutant blinked several times and his gaze became blank. He bit his lower lip, wondering how he was actually feeling. " I feel like I have sand in them," he said staring at the ceiling.

"And that's how it should be, we've given you some expensive medication, your infection is now under control. You probably expect more explanations now, I won't hide that it annoys me a little."

"And what annoys me is lack of answers to my questions."

"I'll release your right hand now so that you can reach a bottle of water which I'll leave on the table. You'll find here a plastic cup, feel free to drink, you'll need a lot of water. Is morphine working?"

"I don't feel pain anymore but I'm tired."

" It's normal after a surgery and full anesthesia."

That reminded the turtle of something important. Raising his head slightly he stared at the man, swallowed hard and asked: "What did you do to me?"

"Oh, don't worry," doctor Morisaki laughed. "The surgery was part of the project. Speaking of The CD Project, for your, let's say, good-mannered behavior I'll tell you that The CD Project aims to create something extraordinary. We want to bring to life a childish dream which for many is impossible, but with you and the mutagen nothing stands in our way. Now rest, you need to recover quickly so that we can move on to the next part."

Doctor Morisaki left the confused turtle. Another pointless hint, the lack of useful answers, and now that surgery. Donatello raised his head, trying to see his body. A thick layer of bandages and cotton wool covered his chest and abdomen, so it was obvious that they had been rummaging in those areas, since he could feel the pain there, not so painful right now thanks to morphine. The mutant sighed heavily, taking advantage of the temporary lack of unpleasant sensations. The time had come for more thoughts about the future. Let's be honest, Donatello was terrified, although he tried to mask it behind his calm face. He had no chances of escaping, he was at the mercy of mad scientists who had already mutilated him in some way, he'd probably never see his family and friends. He wished he had had the opportunity to tell them how important they all were for him and how sorry he was that he hadn't devoted more time to them. He hadn't even been able to say goodbye. He would never apologize to Splinter for being the weakest student, he'd never support Leo in difficult times. He'd never help Raph in repairing his motorcycle and he'd never sit with Mikey like brother with brother to just spend a few moments together.

* * *

"Isn't that wonderful that we have the opportunity to talk again and get to know each other better, Donatello?"

The turtle didn't know whether he wanted to cry or vomit. As soon as the inseparable duo entered the room he felt sick. Attached to each other all the time, though not holding hands, they were very talkative, or at least the older one.

"It was very nice of Morisaki to add a few hours a week more for us, don't you think?"

If the mutant had been putting files of hated people in order from the most-hated in his drawer, the name of William Russell would have preceded the names of Stockman, Oroku Saki aka the Shredder, even Agent Bishop. The turtle clenched his teeth and shut his eyes, trying to ignore the annoying psychiatrist with the Japanese psychologist always faithfully standing by his side. Suddenly, it seemed horribly interesting what kind of rumors about those two were spreading across the building.

"Let us summarize our knowledge about you so that we won't miss anything. Let set the ooze aside."

"The mutagen."

"Yeah, whatever." William snapped the pen, wrote something insignificant and looked at the files in his hands. "Name: Donatello. Surname: let's face it, the mere fact that you have a name was unexpected. Species: red-eared slider. Origin: United States, according to the accent. Skills: fluent in English, medium level of French, basic Japanese; probably can use weapons such as bō staff and knows ninjutsu."

For a moment, an internal panic attack was preparing itself to invade the mutant's mind but it gave up quickly. No wonder they knew his physical abilities, they had found him with all his equipment with him, besides, it's nothing hard for a Japanese to guess what the bō staff is for.

"Interests: probably some scientific stuff since you consider yourself to be a scientist." The psychiatrist couldn't stop the short chuckle. "In my notes below we have other information which wasn't suitable for that grouping, that is the fact that you fell from the sky and hit your head hard, so you may have a few small gaps in your memory. Now we wonder what you think about the word 'family'?"

"It's not about the word," Kuroba said. "We'd rather like to know if you have someone you could call your family?"

"So you want to know if there are others like me," Donatello concluded, begging deep down in his soul for freeing from those two's trap.

"Yes, I don't believe you would name yourself Donatello. And somebody had to teach you how to speak."

"I found the name in a book, I lived in a place where you can find things thrown away by people, I liked the sound of the name. Living in the shadows, observing people, listening to them made me learn how to speak, and reading and writing came with time and a few exercise books for children."

He seemed confident when he told that. Maybe he was even too confident of his words? But he couldn't betray his family, because, who knows, maybe those madmen would want to find them? That way was the safest for everyone. "So where did all these protectors, mask and weapon come from? Surely you didn't learn this by watching kindergarten children fighting for a plastic shovel in the sandbox?" Akira asked, narrowing his eyes.

"From books and movies, of course. As I've said, people throw away a lot of things and I have a knack for absorbing knowledge. I had a knowledge from the books, and other stuff provided me with practical training. That way, for instance, I repaired an old TV and VHS player, I stole the electricity, found some VHS' and voilà."

Russell adjusted his glasses, murmuring with understanding. 'This information must be sent to doctor Morisaki immediately,' he thought. That reptile wasn't only wise, it was intelligent, which was a serious threat to The CD Project. The man was writing anxiously in his notebook so as not to forget any bit of relevant data. "I wonder," Kuroba began. "If you named yourself, do you also have a surname? By naming yourself you probably wanted to get a little closer to people and you certainly could hear their surnames more than once, so I'm asking. Did you give yourself a surname?"

Donatello shook his head no without saying a word. For now both men had been absorbing the knowledge like a sponge absorbs water, not thinking too much about the credibility of that information what was very convenient for him. Whatever they had done to him, it certainly was only the beginning of the whole project, and at some stage they would have to detach him from the bed. For now, he would stoically give them all kinds of fairy tales that physicians would be able to believe.

"What's your favorite color?"

Now nobody expected such a question. Not only Donatello widened his sore eyes at Russell, Kuroba did the same. The older man just smiled and adjusted his glasses.

"What's that question?"

"Not very important for the project."

"Why are you asking then?"

"Will my knowledge of that fact hurt you, Donatello?"

"Actually, no."

"So what's wrong with you telling me?"

"Since you ask it, it does matter somehow."

"It's not a big deal, it won't change anything for the project nor your health, or at least physical health."

"And what does that mean?"

" It means that if you tell us what color seems nice to you, we will save you spending time in a rotten, brown like shit room."

He wasn't one hundred percent sure but he felt it was some kind of a clue. Well, it didn't tell him much, but still. They planned to close him somewhere else or paint the walls. Perhaps they wanted to turn him into their pet? Whatever it was, still it wasn't enough information to draw conclusions. "Purple," he said after giving it a thought.

"That was predictable, your mask is purple," Akira muttered.

"**Akira, I wanted to have a light friendly conversation,**" William replied, wincing at his younger coworker. "Anyway, we've taken another hour of your existence, it's time for a short break. In about half an hour someone should come here, check this and that and bring you something to eat."

"You two think that your presence here keeps me entertained?" the mutant laughed, almost choking.

"Not at all, our amusing cute lil mutant," doctor Russell said in a sugary voice. "We are specialists in the psyche and you, I won't hide it, feel here like a prisoner and you are, in a sense of the word, our prisoner. Therefore talking to other people should help you minimize your anxiety and protect you from depression."

"Well, I must say I don't give a shit whether you're trying to help me or not!" Donatello growled, reaching for the plastic bottle of water with his swollen hand.

"You should see your face right now, you are the cutest thing when you're angry. You remind me of a lot of my patients I've dealt with without moving a finger so I'll handle you as well."

"We'll leave you alone now, Donatello-kun."

Both men exited the white room in a hurry. Donatello watched them, sipping the water in peace. His nerves had activated, nothing serious, every person would have erupted, especially if they had been somebody who felt save only when they knew everything about their situation. Lack of knowledge belonged to the turtle's top ten fears.

The digital clock told: October 14, 3.26 p.m, the temperature was still 77 degrees. The surgery must had taken several hours or the physicians hadn't bothered to wake him up at the right time. Even though morphine temporarily eliminated the pain, whatever was covered by those thick bandages, itched like a mosquito bite. Out of pure curiosity the mutant touched the top layers of bandages with his finger, then pushed gently until he felt a slight burning which convinced him not to touch anymore, or at least for now. Besides, he was exhausted again and talking to Russell and Kuroba only increased that tiredness by at least ten times.

* * *

_"I'm cold."_

_"Yeah, these ain't tropics. Come here closer."_

_"Stay together, my sons, the temperature is not favorable."_

_He heard conversations but saw nothing. He recognized voices but could not identify them correctly. He only knew that he also felt cold, just as the others, and the rumbling in his ears was becoming more and more exhausting. For some reason he couldn't open his eyes, he only felt himself curl up, clench his teeth and put his hands to his temples to suppress the strange growling._

_"Don, come here."_

_He shook his head no, pressing his shell harder to the wall. Where was he? Were there other beings? He knew those voices but had problem with the accurate recognition. The room he was in was swaying slightly but he wasn't on the ship, it was a different feeling._

_"Donatello, you should not be alone in such difficult conditions."_

_What was going on? Those voices, he knew them, but he wasn't going to risk it. What did they want from him? All of it was very confusing. Why couldn't he see? Ah, the closed eyes. Maybe he should have tried to open them and see where he was, who was in there with him. The whole situation seemed terrifyingly familiar._

_Black began to slowly turn into gray eventually, and it stayed that color. The room was shaking in all directions, full of various packages, bags and suitcases. In the darker corner figures he couldn't see clearly sat, cuddled together. He for sure noticed a long pink tail and pairs of big green feet, very much the same as his._

_"Don, please," a shaky voice said, a three-fingered hand emerged from the darkness, after a moment it was a whole arm, then with a head whose face could not be forgotten when one was a brother of such a person. "Come to us, I'll help you."_

_He shook his arms, blinked his eyes, then nodded slightly, feeling much more comfortable and safer than a few minutes before. He slowly reached out his frozen arm, leaning gently forward, when a terrible crackle sounded in the air. If the room had been shaking before, now there was a real storm, a hurricane, a tornado. It was only at that moment that he remembered where he was, why he was there, who was in there with him. However, before he could do something, the luggage compartment opened, the cold air began to suck out everything which was in the room, including him sitting next to the trapdoor._

_At the last moment he caught a metal pipe, his legs broke away from the ground, he couldn't help himself with his other hand. He heard a terrifying whistle of the wind which effectively drowned out his family's cries of his name. Through narrowed eyes he saw his brother, held by second, held by third, with his feet hooked on another pipe. Together they formed a lifeline, unfortunately too short to help him. His hand was freezing and the extra effort only made the pain worse, compounding it three times._

_One last look at his family, it was only one second-long look. And then Donatello released the pipe..._

* * *

"**The object of research of The "Childish Dream" Project, who called himself Donatello and we call him that way, fell asleep, Morisaki-san.**"

Doctor Morisaki bent over the man sitting in front of the screen, the screen showing a recording of the monitoring from the room where the three meters tall mutant was. The turtle had his eyes closed, breathed steadily, sometimes murmured something and turned his head, but otherwise showed no activity. "**Perfect,**" the doctor murmured. "**Keep an eye on cameras, Tokugawa.**"

"**Hai.**"

"**Aigo, bring my little Kyo-chan.**"

"**Hai, sensei.**"

The main doctor of The CD Project stretched his back slightly without taking his eyes off the screen. Meanwhile Aigo went to the residential part of the building where she found her aunt in the kitchen. The woman was bustling around the room, preparing dinner for her family and all employees, and because of that she almost never left the kitchen. Little Kyoko was sitting in the living room by the kotatsu and was busy drawing. "**Konnichiwa,**" Aigo said briefly and went from the kitchen to the living room immediately. Little Kyoko laughed at the sight of her much older cousin and showed her dirty colorful hands, greasy and sticky as every child had. Aigo smiled gently and walked over to the kotatsu, then knelt by her little cousin and put her elbow on the table, watching silently what the small girl was doing. Kyoko returned to drawing on a sheet of paper, for now the drawing was apparently not even half-finished, there was a big round green rim and inside of it there were two black-yellow circles and a bow drawn with its tummy down. "**What are you drawing, Kyo-chan?**" Aigo asked in a low voice.

"**Ryū,**" the little girl answered.

The teenager looked over her shoulder at her aunt still overwhelmed by the kitchen challenges waiting for her. The woman didn't approve of anything that took place in her house, from the laboratory and scientific researches near the little one to keeping and hurting various animals when the little one was in the next room. Aigo, on the other hand, supported her uncle's initiative with all her heart and didn't care about the feelings of the 'inferior beings'. "**Hey, Kyo-chan,**" she whispered, looking back at the girl. "**Your daddy is calling you. Do you want to see Ryū?**"

At the sound of a key word, the little girl put all her crayons into the carton without a word, she took the carton and paper, the pieces more or less filled with colors, and she ran to her cousin's legs, looking at her with her big dark eyes. Aigo gave her a short smile, then leaned and took her hand. Together, avoiding eye contact with her aunt, they both left the residential part of the building and went down the corridor. In one of the rooms doctor Morisaki was waiting for them, along with several employees in white coats. Three of them operated the technological equipment, including the previously mentioned Tokugawa.

The little girl's father crouched in front of her, grasping her tiny, smooth hands in his rough ones. Kyoko gave him a wide smile, then her brown eyes trailed all the other faces and three-year-old blushed gently. Her small head dug into the man's chest so that her face became invisible to other people.

"**Daddy has a short break now, so I thought you would like to see-**"

"**Ryū!**" the overjoyed girl interrupted him, jumping up and down.

"**Our tall green friend's name is Donatello but soon we will all call him-**"

"**Ryū!**" Kyo-chan repeated excitedly.

The doctor just chuckled, rubbing short arms of his little princess, then took her in his arms and went out into the corridor. The little one couldn't wait to see the large green creature, she was bouncing and fidgeting all the way, making the trip difficult for her father.

Parent and child stood in front of the white door with a black number 6 and the inscriptions 'The Object Dtm15' and 'The 'Childish Dream' Project', both engraved in golden boards. The little one understand nothing except numbers, she didn't know letters, and everything was in English, which was a strange language spoken in her home by almost all strangers dressed similarly to her father. "**Will you open the door, princess?**" Morisaki whispered, moving closer to the door with her.

Kyoko leaned out over her father shoulders and grasped the door handle with her plump hand. Her tiny heart was beating at dizzying speed, she couldn't wait to see him. The light was dimmed in the room but it wasn't completely dark. The gray space was sad and extremely empty, except for the occupied bed, the stools and monitors standing on strange machines, the room had plenty of space because everything was thrown into one corner.

Donatello was laying on the bed, half covered with white duvet, and was snoring softly. With uncovered shoulders and arms resting along his body and slightly parted lips, the mutant reptile was completely unaware of his surroundings. He was probably tired because of the big dose of painkillers, and besides, the boredom which he had to feel while being bedridden. After the surgery his skin had grayed slightly but it slowly began to getting back its former state.

Morisaki walked to the bed with his daughter and laughed quietly at the sight of her eyes, glittering with fascination. "**You like him, right?**" he asked and she nodded vigorously. "**You can touch him, don't be afraid, sweetheart, come over,**" he added, placing Kyo-chan on the floor and leading her by the hand.

Kyoko stood by the bed, tilting her head to see long arm with thick, cuffed wrist and large hand, everything wrapped in bandages. She had already touched the big turtle once, but it had been done without her father's agreement, and now she could finally stroke the mutant like a pet. And so she did. Firstly she put her hand flat on the bandages covering the tendons on the reptile's hand, then she tightened her hold higher, where the bandages didn't cover the green skin. Donatello was in too deep sleep for that light like a wind touch to wake him up. "**Ryū,**" she said, nudging the sleeping creature. "**Ryū!**" she repeated louder.

"**But princess!**" Morisaki knelt beside her and took her hands from the mutant's body. "**Donatello is sleeping, we don't want to wake him up. Come.**" The man picked the girl up and sat her on the stool, next to the pillow. "**See, sweetheart? He is sleeping. You don't like it when somebody interrupts your sleep. Besides, Donatello went through a hard and exhausting surgery, he needs time to recover, otherwise he won't be ready for further treatments.**"

"**Ryū?**"

The doctor nodded. Kyoko leaned over the bed, one hand resting on the mattress, the other reached out to finally touch Donatello's face. She managed to rest her sticky palm on his cheek, right next to the corner of his mouth, the hand began to wander on his beak, forehead, top of his head. It was real fun for her, or at least until...

At some point a heavy moan escaped the turtle's throat and the mutant tilted his head to the side, closer to her. Before she could do anything, he moaned again and began thrashing his head and arms as much as the latches on his wrists allowed. Doctor Morisaki quickly picked his daughter up before she could have been hit by accident, he himself curious about the situation. It was possible that Donatello had a nightmare which was hard to bear. The most interesting, however, began a moment later. "Mmm... Leo..." the mutant groaned quietly, throwing himself, or rather throwing his head in all directions. "Leo, help me! Please! Raphie! Mikey!"

Interested, and even a bit angry inside, the doctor exited the room for a moment to leave his daughter in the living room. She didn't hide her disappointment because of this, but her father promised her another visits, when the reptile would feel better. So he saved himself by hoaxing the little girl that Donatello didn't feel well and was probably sick. At an equally anxious pace he returned to the white room, furious for a reason he hadn't known before but should had known. Not to mention that the object of their researches deceived them, keeping his poker face and stoic calmness, and he was so convincing in his testimony that even God himself would have had trouble detecting a lie.

"Master... Splinter... Father!" The reptile was still struggling with his eyes closed, unable to wake up.

Having walked to the mutant in three steps Morisaki raised his arm and with all his strength slapped it against the mutant's bandaged chest. The chocolate brown eyes opened, their pupils narrowed and tears flowed from the corners of his eyes almost immediately. Donatello hissed in pain, panting a few times.

"'I have no family, huh?! I grew up with only observing people? I learnt everything only by that?!'" the doctor shouted, staring at the terrified look of his 'victim'.

"But... But..." Donatello stammered. "I didn't lie to you!" he answered anxiously, his calm mask was breaking slowly, that nightmare had reminded him of some important details, thanks to which he may would learn the whole truth about how he had got there and why.

"Bullshit! You've just told me everything." Slowly, the anger disappeared from the man's face, and it was replaced by a wide grin. "Dear Donatello, you can't hide anything from me, it's time to be honest with each other."

"How can I be honest while you are still hiding a lot from me?!"

In that moment a few people entered the room, including Kuroba who finally for once was on his own, Eika and Aigo. Some quick sentences in Japanese escaped their mouths, too fast for him to understand any of it. Then several hands slipped the duvet off him, revealing a thick layer of gauze and bandages. Two people stood on his sides with huge scissors and began to cut the layers of material, somebody gave him another dose of morphine. His heart was beating so hard and he felt that if it didn't break through his chest right then, it would jump into his throat. He waited impatiently to see for himself what that group of psychopaths had done to him.

All the layers covering his body were slowly taken away what, despite the morphine, hurt so much he gritted his teeth and hissed, pressing his head to the pillow for a moment. The small crowd around the bed parted, all the remained were doctor Morisaki and another Japanese in the coat, whom Donatello had never seen or didn't recognize because the man wasn't wearing a mask, and he probably had had earlier when they had taken him for the surgery. "**The transplanted tissues will have to be covered for some time to cover the gaps, but thanks to the modified substance they will quickly overgrow, the cells should accelerate the process of division,**" the unknown man murmured, gently touching with his finger a few places, strangely soft and strangely stinging from the pain. Too complicated language didn't allow the mutant to understand a lot, something covered, substance, cells...

"**Perfect, I think a week is enough for recovery and then another one to get used to the changes.**" Doctor Morisaki followed the other surgeon with his eyes, then returned to staring at the lying turtle.

Donatello pressed the back of his head to the pillow, teeth gritted and tears welling up, hesitating to look at the strangely feeling parts of his body. Hearing the amused murmur from the man responsible for his position he raised his trembling head, biting his lips, and opened his wet eyes. The view shook him deeply.

His plastron didn't exist, it disappeared, it wasn't there. The bastards amputated his front shell, exposing him to death. Instead, the whole front looked like chopped meat. The top was covered by a thin layer of skin which looked more like a green mesh full of holes and gaps. There were muscles under it, also with holes. Blood vessels were visible, some broken.

He didn't even know when the panic took over him and he started screaming, shaking his head, squeezing and widening his eyes, sniffing, denying what he had just seen. And all that to the great joy of doctor Morisaki standing calmly.


End file.
